Familj: Family
by Artificial Starlight
Summary: A regular evening, a regular argument, a rather significant time for Finland to realize why he loves his family so much. SuFin


**Familj: Family**

**By: Artificial Starlight**

The life of a Nation-person was difficult. One couldn't just focus on human emotions when the rest of your people looked up to you for guidance. Not when you were responsible for international relations and being a potential deterrent to war.

Life as a _Northern _Nation was difficult. Weather was predictably harsh during winter months, and it didn't help when the sun wavered just at the horizon for days- or worse, didn't bother to rise in the sky at all. And you had to deal with the ice, so basic travel and trade slowed down. Plus, it wasn't exactly a hot-spot for tourism. Who wanted to spend their vacations freezing their tails off?

And life as a Scandinavian was difficult, mostly because... well, honestly, they were not exactly family-time material.

Finland sometimes thinks he'd rather belong to another family altogether - especially when fights break out among them and suddenly everyone is giving each other death glares and stubborn silent treatments and Finland is the only mature adult there who is always designated as the mediator...

Yes, it happens all the time, and he can name every detail and predict every reaction.

Like now, the way Denmark's glacier blue eyes turned just a hint darker as he glared at Sweden, showing his full abhorrence of the man's nonchalant insult thrown his way. "Hypocrite," was the single snarled comeback issued to the expressionless male in front of him.

And if you could ask anyone's opinion on Berwald Oxenstierna they would tell you that above all, he looked intimidating- perpetually glowering at everything, even when he's considered happy. However, those who saw his normal "angry" features had no idea just how dark he could get when actually furious.

"'m no h'pocrite," He replied - his dark blue eyes were narrowed, lips thin and taut, brows furrowed. His speech was never the easiest to understand; he tended to slur his vowels together, and it was only made worse when he spit them out with barely hidden contempt. For those who lived with him for so long, they understood him perfectly - and they understood the threat underneath every syllable as well.

"Yeah, you are - you can't tell me to stop talking to Tino when you're bothering Lukas so much. Move out of the way before I make you!"

On the other side of the kitchen, Finland sighed, shaking his head and running a hand through his light blond hair. It was ridiculous really - how much Sweden and Denmark argued. Over silly things too, like simply talking to one another. He knew Sweden was only trying to protect him, in a weird, unnecessary, and troublesome way.

Denmark and Finland had a little dispute over waterways and their political leaders each said some nasty things about each other. At the same time, Sweden and Norway had a rough patch brought on by a small trading change.

Apparently, Sweden went to Norway personally to talk things out - Finland didn't know if they came to an agreement yet, however. Now, Denmark seemed to have had the same idea; he simply chose the wrong time to stop by Tino's house and the angry Swede who answered the door refused to let him in.

What did Berwald think Matthias would do? Beat him into submission? _Ha, Matthias is not that stupid, and a silly little argument like this could be solved relatively peacefully if Berwald didn't make it into a big situation._

_Like children_, Finland thought.

Big and powerful children who tended to punch first and think about consequences later - and Tino felt the atmosphere heat up with the men's fury. Too much testosterone, really; they were huge men with tall muscular bodies and the strength to back them up.

Finland supposed he should put an end to it before things got out of hand.

Pushing away from the tile covered countertops, he took hold of Sweden's sweater near the elbow, pulling him back enough to step between them. Compared to their size, Tino was rather small, even if he had an average height and a fairly broad set of shoulders (the result of his sporting activities/hobbies).

"That's enough. Berwald, I think I can handle this problem myself." He had, after all, been an independent Nation for many years, and even while under someone else's rule (Denmark, Russia, or Sweden) he took care of his own responsibilities. Tino never needed someone to hide behind or fight for him - or at least, he never asked for it.

Still, Sweden seemed to look hurt by his words, by the way his shoulders slumped slightly and the frown became a little softer; an honest pain rather than anger. Denmark had a second to smirk victoriously before Tino rounded to him next.

"You have a lot of guts coming here Matthias - after what you said I'm not sure I'm in the mood to talk to you, and just because you know where I live does not mean you should show up without a warning."

"But -"

"Go back home and call me to set up an appointment so we can settle this matter calmly and professionally."

"I was -"

"An unexpected meeting at my house this late in the evening, with a case of beer in your hand, is not professional. I will happily talk things over with you later though, I think it's a great idea to get together and settle things out."

"... you used to be so cute and loving. Just stop taxing your stuff!"

"Bye, Matthias," Finland replied, shutting the door in the Nation's face. With that problem resolved, Finland made his way back to the countertops, taking up the santoku knife and resuming his cooking duties.

The affair ended so quickly Sweden seemed a little confused, standing there, arms crossed over his chest, glare set deep into his features, feet shoulder width apart- like he was ready for battle. Only, Finland stepped between them so quickly, scolding them like they were children and then Matthias was gone, Berwald was embarrassed, and Tino simply acted as if nothing interrupted him.

With an upset frown, Berwald watched the smaller man work; confident hands filleting a fresh fish, dicing the meat into thin slices and setting them on a slow-heating skillet. Tino, much like Norway and Iceland, had this aloof air about him; he rarely grew angry with them but Sweden knew better than to think he _couldn't_.

Finland was almost terrifying when angry.

Unlike Norway and Iceland however, Finland had no trouble _smiling_. An honest, true, kind, and beautiful smile. That was what attracted Berwald in the first place. Tino was so easy to get along with, so strong and yet he was approachable and generous.

Sweden just wished he could be perfect for him.

Berwald, in all his tall, intimidating glory, wanted nothing more than to support Tino- to make him smile and hear his laugh. He'd do anything to make him happy and it had been that way since the age of vikings.

When Sweden had broken from Denmark's rule, he'd known that Finland - now his responsibility - would get everything he'd ever need. Finland would never suffer while Sweden supported him; he'd promised.

And then Finland was taken away from him - physically and socially, they separated. Berwald knew fear, then.

All these years, their relationship had taken strange twists and turns, sometimes, it was Finland helping him; supporting him through his rough times. It hurt to know he was not invincible and that Tino had to care for him like he had...

However, Berwald supposed that was another reason he fell in love with the man; his kind and hospitable nature - the way he would carry him, no matter how much larger he was or how heavy. He would bandage his wounds, bring his fevers down, feed him when he was too sick to do it himself.

All he wanted was to be there for Finland and return the favor should he ever need it. Although, he supposed he went overboard sometimes...

"'re you angry at me?"

Violet eyes glanced at him for just a moment, then returned to chopping up vegetables to go with the fish. "Not particularly," He replied back easily. His tone suggested he wasn't, though he sighed afterwards and followed up with a quiet scolding. "It's not like I was in any kind of trouble, Sve. Danmark's reasons for coming here were not bad, and I think it'll do us good to go over these problems. Politicians of ours obviously can't do it themselves."

"'e's rude tho'."

"He's always been rude," Tino chuckled.

"'nd forceful."

"Forceful or not, in this day and age, diplomacy is the only option to truly get things done; war is far from likely - and this is such a small, silly argument too." Finland looked up from the sizzling skillet with a smile. "I can handle it, Berwald, Matthias isn't so scary anymore."

Sweden let a tiny sigh escape him... _of course he could handle it._ The problem was, _he shouldn't have to._ "I just want you h'ppy. I w'rry."

Tino paused and gave the man another smile, this one soft but bright. "You always worry, and you shouldn't have to, but I can't get you to stop," He laughed.

"You're m' wife. 'm s'pposed w'rry anyway."

A roll of violet, "I'm a guy, don't call me wife." The reply was customary, rehearsed and practised, but Finland was not angry - he had been saying the same thing for years and he knew by now that Sweden would do almost anything for him... except stop calling him his wife.

At some point Tino figured he'd allow him that; Berwald could call him anything he wanted, after all, Sweden never asked him for much in life. Simply to be by his side, to let him lead and care for the 'house' and the weird family he'd acquired.

"_I wouldn't mind having a child."_ He remembered saying, staring at a young America holding hands with England. Bright blue eyes looking at Arthur with such innocence - for guidance and with respect - adoration and love.

It was a simple voice of opinion - something that came with a lifetime of loneliness and the harsh fact that Tino would never live life like a normal human. To marry and dedicate his life to a wife and children - watch them grow and carry on their own legacy. He was a Nation; such a thing was impossible.

But imagine his surprise when Sweden brought home a young boy named Peter - or more accurately "Sealand."

Tino's nickname "wife" suddenly made much more sense; they had a son, Berwald and Tino were his parents, and to many people this was just a messed up game of 'House' but Finland cherished every bit of it. It was what he wanted; to be part of a normal life. And Sweden did his best to provide that in every way.

"Sverige, could you set the table?"

A low grunt of agreement, and the shuffle of booted feet left the kitchen and Tino turned the heat off the stove, covering the pan of fish and vegetables so they would stay warm. He took a heavy mitten into his hands and opened the oven to get the bread rolls. He carried them to the dining area where Sweden was setting three places.

One heat resistant mitten was set in the middle of the table, and Finland placed the hot pan of bread on top of it, straightening and reaching behind him to undo the strings of his apron.

A pair of larger hands beat him to it, and Tino smiled appreciatively at Berwald as he released the bow tie. "'m sorry." Sweden mumbled, and his intimidating glare seemed to darken as his worry and disappointment spread.

Finland used to be afraid of that look, but now, he knew the man's expression was not of anger. Once the apron was lifted over his head and folded in his arms, he turned to face the tall Nordic with a soft smile. "It's fine. I know what you were meaning to do. Thank you."

His sinewy arms wrapped around the man's abdomen, bringing him closer to burrow his cheek into his soft sweater at the shoulder. Heavy arms slid across his shoulders to hold him there, warm and protected. And it was nice - Finland learned he could trust those arms and this embrace - it was a solid rock for his sanity sometimes.

"People tell me that we're lucky, Berwald. We're together, our Nations are independable but _united_ at the same time. We love each other, and with Peter - it's like our lives are complete. I couldn't get any happier, Sve. Can you?"

The arms around him squeezed a little tighter and the tall man leaned down to breathe in Finland's scent. "_Nej_," Berwald whispered, his deep voice almost pained. "If you're h'ppy, th'n I am. Always."

Tino leaned back, still within the hold, but looking into bright glacier blues with a true happy grin. He lifted himself up on his toes, to connect his lips with the thin pair of his partners, and made it as meaningful as a chaste kiss could be. After all, he heard a pattering of feet heading down the stairs and it wouldn't do for Peter to see his "parents" involved in a heated make-out session like a couple of teens.

However, when Tino pulled apart from the other's loving arms, and Berwald took the apron from him, mumbling something about getting the rest of the food and "You should sit d'wn." Finland felt an overwhelming need to show his appreciation for Berwald.

He had just enough time to take hold of the man's hand, caressing the larger palm softly and bringing it up to place a light kiss on the back of it before Peter jumped into the room. "Mom, guess what!"

Finland, the designated "mom" grinned at the abundant cheer glowing on his son's face. "What?"

"Ravis wants me to spend the night at his house over the weekend. Estonia is gonna be there, and he's one of the best to play games with - it's like a game marathon! Can I go? Please?"

Tino looked to Berwald, a silent question. Sweden's broad shoulders shrugged, and Finland chuckled. "Sure."

Sealand did a little victory-dance and the pair sat down in their respective places as Sweden returned from the kitchen with Tino's cooking. Dinner was spent in a happy aura - Peter talking nonstop about his day, his friends, what he'd done to Arthur this time, and the two other Nations listened attentively. Berwald would speak every now and then, gruff and serious, even when attempting a joke and despite his voice and tone, Sweden _did_ have humor.

They helped each other load the dishwasher of their dirty plates afterwards, and even though Sealand sprayed water on his parents with the faucet and made even more of a mess - Tino still thought their little family was perfect.

Especially as Iceland called just before they put Peter to bed, suggesting they get together for a large family dinner in a few days. Finland couldn't help but let his chest soar with excitement. Even if Denmark and Sweden would argue, Norway and Iceland communicated silently, and Finland would be forced to mediate while Sealand ran around high on Iceland's caffeinated sodas.

They were family.

Finland loved every single one of them, and no matter how hard it became - he'd continue to love them for all he was worth.

_It just happened to start with Sweden_, he thought, pulling lightly on the giant's hand to their bedroom. _Everything started with Sweden._

And at the end of the day, Sweden would forever be his last, most loving, thought.

...Thank You...

Ah, first round of the writers challenge. SuFin!

I love this couple. They're like the perfect little family. Definitely the only OTP, as I can't see either of them being with anyone else. Sweden has always been with Finland. It's freakin' adorable.

Don't worry about Giving In guys, my school semester is over now, I can relax, and the chapter is coming along, so no worries!

Translations:

Sverige (Swedish): Sweden

Nej (Swedish): No

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or the characters therein - I don't own countries. I would love to have my own country though... I would probably do a lot better than some dictators, just sayin'!


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